


The Lives We'll Live

by Phantom



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 02:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom/pseuds/Phantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rebecca and Jack, together forever? Jack comes to Rebecca.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lives We'll Live

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minkhollow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/gifts).



> I was absolutely inspired to write this after reading your wonderful, wonderful story Living in America. These two were adorable in canon but I love what you did with them. Happy Yuletide!

She's fond of her front porch. It's small, of course, as is the rest of her place, but she keeps it uncluttered and as the days have grown long, it's her favorite place to be. This is her nightly routine: she fixes herself dinner and afterwards, settles outside with her work or reading until she can no longer see. Sometimes she has company over, but her life here is quiet. Uneventful. Boring, most would say.

She figures she's earned boring.

Today, though, she walks up her front steps and finds a single cherry on her doormat. There's a tree in the yard, but the cherry is set dead in the center.

"Ah," she says. She can't say that was entirely unexpected; she was surprised he'd waited this long, really.

She leaves the cherry where it is, sets her purse just inside the front door, and then sits down to wait. It isn't a long one; before she's worked out what to say he comes strolling around the corner. He's even whistling.

She shakes her head, and smiles. Same suit, same shoes, same new old hat.

He doesn't pause until he's standing on the porch step, hat in hand. Even then, his hesitation almost slips past her. "Rebecca."

"Hello, Jack." She stands to greet him, and then she understands the indecision—should she kiss him, or hug him? She settles for, "You look good."

It hurts more than a little bit to see him here, honestly. Their goodbye was amicable but she had intended it to truly be a goodbye. Sure, they've sent occasional letters back and forth and there was that phone call on Christmas but it was a far cry from the way they were just a year ago. Her face grows warm as she thinks of their anniversary; that one had been particularly memorable.

"So do you." His smile is every bit as cocky as she remembers. "I like your tree. I'd like to think you picked it because it reminds you of me."

"Maybe a little," she says, because that's not admitting anything he doesn't know.

"So you're a teacher now?"

"Yes." She smiles. "Third grade."

"And a damn good one, too, seems like," he says, leaning back against a post. "Multiple commendations."

She arches an eyebrow, but she would be lying to say she wasn't pleased to hear it. He'd encouraged her to do it, but of course he'd hardly been happy about her leaving. "How'd you know?"

"Well," he says, "I _am_ a agent of a highly respected government organization. You'd be surprised at what I know."

He holds up both hands at the look she gave him. "I went to the school first. I heard it there. But that brings me to my question: you like your job. You like your life here."

She nods, waiting. This is to be a new variation on a familiar conversation, then. "That isn't a question, Jack."

"I miss you, Becks." He starts to reach out to her and then stops, uncertain.

She would have let him, but it's nice to see him off balance, just for once. "I know," she says quietly. "I've missed you too. I really have."

"This is my question, then," he says. "Is there any room in this nice little life of yours for me?"

"Jack," she says slowly, stretching his name to give her time to think. "I—you know that I love you. But I can't— _I won't_ —give my life to the Warehouse. It's not the life that I want, it's not the life I fought for, and it's not the life I'll live. And I can't stand to watch you live it, either."

"I know." He's calm again. It's infuriating, considering he was the one to disrupt her life.

"I thought I'd made my terms clear when I left."

"You did," he says. "Perfectly crystal clear."

"Then why are you here?" She doesn't mean to sound so sharp, but maybe she does. "To hope I'd changed my mind?"

"You'd never change your mind." He smiles at her again, absolutely certain. "Not about this."

And then he shifts, in a way that she knows is deliberate. She frowns when she sees the weapon tucked securely into its holster around his waist. "That's not a Tesla."

"It's not exactly standard issue Warehouse," he agrees, in a way that makes sudden hope well up in her stomach. "More like standard issue to policemen in most small Iowa towns."

He pauses. "I believe this is a small Iowa town, is it not?"

"Oh, Jack, I—" It's tempting to fling her arms around him and kiss him right there, but she restrains herself. "I don't want you to walk away from the Warehouse because of me."

It's a lie, of course. She wants him to walk away with her, but she still feels horrid guilt for asking him the first time. She knows she shouldn't, but he was truly happy at the Warehouse in a way that she had never been. Then again, they had been drafted in such different circumstances, it should hardly have been a surprise.

"Oh, Becks," he says, "it'll be all right, you'll see. I have a good vibe about this one."

She stares at him for a long moment, just to be sure. "Well, then," she says, "my answer is yes.

"Ah." She holds up her hands when he moves to kiss her, pressing them lightly to his chest. Her face is as serious as she can make it under the circumstances. "There is one condition."

"And that is?"

She smirks. "I want you to admit, once and for all, that I was the better shot. Because I was."

"Aww." He shuffles his feet uncomfortably, and sighs. "Becks..."

"Just once," she says. "I only want to hear it once."

He sighs again. "You were the better shot," he says, in a way that clearly means she wasn't at all. But that's all right, she decides, and slides her arms around him as he kisses her. She'll have a long, long time now to convince him otherwise.


End file.
